Page 153 of Before Dawn

I chuckled, my voice steady, though my heart was anything but. “You’re always so sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

He leaned in again, this time close enough for his lips to graze my ear. “When it comes to you?” His voice dropped to a whisper that set every nerve in my body on edge. “Always.”

My body was still throbbing, pulsing with the very thought of him.

The mouth on this man was fucking unreal. He carried on as if he hadn’t just fingered me totwoorgasms, tasted his fingers, and whispered the filthiest words I’d ever heard—all in one breath, without missing a beat.

After the picnic and my failed attempts at coherent conversation, we strolled hand in hand through moonlit streets. By the fountain, he kissed me—long and promising—then drove me home in comfortable silence.

At my door, he cradled my face, kissed me again, and left me utterly breathless.

“Goodnight,mi amor,76” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine.

“Goodnight, baby,” I murmured, my heart swelling. “I can’t wait for more days withyou.”

“Soon,” he promised, stepping back and handing me a bag. “But first, a gift, and there’s a box waiting inside for you.”

Another gift?I needed to hide his credit cards.

I took the bag, noticing the unexpected weight. “What’s inside?”

He smirked, stealing another quick kiss. “You’ll see.”

Curiosity bubbled up, but I let him go, watching as he walked to the elevator. With a deep breath, I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. I barely made it to the sofa before collapsing onto it, hugging the pillow he’d given me as a giddy little squeal escaped.

“He used Lana song titles,” I whispered to myself, clutching the pillow tighter.

Then my eyes landed on the massive box sitting in the middle of my living room.

How the hell had he even gotten that up here?

I scrambled to the kitchen for scissors, heart pounding with anticipation. When I opened it, I froze.

Weighted blankets.

He bought metwentyfucking weighted blankets.

Lifting the first one out, a small note fluttered to the floor. I bent down to pick it up, hands trembling slightly.

Weighted blankets help with anxiety (so I read), and I hope these help you.

I got different colors (twenty to be exact), so if one gets dirty, you’ll always have another. They’re also pre-washed and range from 15-20 pounds.

~Tu novio77.

My throat tightened. I squeezed the blanket to my chest, its weight comforting me in ways he already knew I needed.

Swallowing hard, I grabbed the bag he’d given me earlier—andwhat the fuck?

Inside were self-help books, each one meticulously tabbed, notes peeking from the pages. I stared in disbelief before pulling out another note resting on top of the stack. His familiar scrawl made my chest ache.

My handwriting is awful, I know, but I made notes and annotations just for you. At the front of each book, there’s a sheet with the sections I picked out. These helped me, and they’re still helping me help you. I hope they help you help yourself.

~Tu novio.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry.

It was pointless. I sobbed.

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